| I want to be as free as the spirits of those who left
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| I’m talking Malcom, Coltrane, my man Yusef
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| Through death through conception
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| New breath and resurrection
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| For moms, new steps in her direction
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| In the right way
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| Told inside is where the fight lay
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| And everything a nigga do may not be what he might say
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| Chicago nights stay, stay on the mind
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| But I write many lives and lay on these lines
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| Wave the signs of the times
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| Many say the grind’s on the mind
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| Shorties blunted-eyed and everyone wonderin’where I’m
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| Bush pushing lies, killers immortalized
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| We got arms but won’t reach for the skies
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| Waiting for the Lord to rise
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| I look into my daughter’s eyes
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| And realize that I’ma learn through her
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| The Messiah, might even return through her
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| If I’ma do it, I gotta change the world through her
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| Furs and a Benz, gramps wantin 'em
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| Demons and old friends, pops they hauntin’him
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| The chosen one from the land of the frozen sun
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| When drunk nights get remembered more than sober ones
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| Walk like warriors, we were never told to run
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| Explored the world to return to where my soul begun
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| Never looking back or too far in front of me The present is a gift
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| and I just wanna BE |